Not an Island

Kevin meandered through the hospital corridors. An observer would have taken in his aimless shuffling walk, the wandering, darting gaze, and the restless hands and surmised that he was someone who wasn't sure if he was in the right place. This conjecture would be accurate. Kevin's shift had ended twenty-minutes ago, but the hospital was in chaos due to an unexplained and unforeseen rush in the emergency room and Kevin felt guilty just leaving the mess to everyone else. Kevin had already been reprimanded for working unapproved overtime on several occasions, and, as a result, was hesitant to get involved in the mayhem.

"Kevin!" A voice piped up from behind him. It was Kathy, his cross-shift, and one of his closest workplace friends. "Why are you still here? Go home!" she said with a cheerful laugh, "We can get by without you, go get some rest!"

Kevin shrugged and flashed Kathy a sheepish smile. "Alright, I'll head home. Take care!" Kathy gave him a quick wave goodbye and then took off again on one of the many tasks of her upcoming shift.

It was winter in Vancouver, which meant that no one could remember when they last saw the sun, but it was still warm enough that he didn’t need to wear more than a light jacket for his commute home.

His bus pulled up at the stop and Kevin climbed on, flashing his pass past the scanner, and finding a spot to stand on the full bus. He surveyed the other passengers, glancing around at the humanity he was to share this journey with: young people staring at their phones, old people staring blankly into nothing, and one well-dressed man near the back staring intently at Kevin. Kevin’s eyes locked with the dapper gentleman, and Kevin smiled nervously with a slight head-nod of acknowledgment of the man’s attentions. The man’s face lit up and he returned the head nod. For the rest of the journey, Kevin avoided looking in that direction. Kevin got off the bus at the exchange and made his way to his next bus. As he boarded the next bus, he caught a glimpse of the dapper gentleman from earlier making his way to a waiting car. Kevin was struck by how much the man had looked like himself.

After a short walk from his final stop, Kevin was home. He hung up his jacket, tossed his house keys into a ceramic bowl a boy named Eric from the at-risk youth program he volunteered with had made for him and then walked into the kitchen. He rinsed out the wine glass that was left on the counter, then opened a cupboard and filled the glass with a deep red cab-sav out of a box. Next, he walked into his living room, sat down on the couch, and then put his head back and closed his eyes. He opened his eyes and took an un-elegant swig from his wine glass. He frowned; something was off in this room. Something was different from how he had left it that morning. He sat up and looked around, his gaze falling on a little leather-bound black book sitting on the coffee table in front of him. There was an envelope on top of the book addressed to him. Cautiously Kevin opened the letter. It read:

“Kevin. You have been selected and judged for good character. Your character has been deemed excellent, and eminently suitable for the award which we hope to bestow upon you. Your work in the hospital, the time you volunteer to local charities, and your overall good-naturedness are what we used to determine that you would be our top candidate for this award.

To earn the award of fifty-three million dollars, you must follow the instructions in the little black book that was delivered with this letter. I assure you that the instructions are entirely in keeping with your wholesome character and involve no criminal or malicious actions on your part.

Best of luck”

Kevin stared at the letter in confusion. Fifty-three million dollars? It all seemed suspicious, especially considering the nature of the book’s delivery. Kevin tentatively picked up the book and slowly opened it to the first page:

“Congratulations on being selected for this project! As a show of good faith, twenty-six and a half million dollars have been placed in your account, with the rest to be paid upon completing all the tasks in this book.

Each page will hold a new list of tasks that must be completed by the end of that day. If you tell anyone what is happening, or look ahead in the book, the money will all disappear. Each task will have a financial requirement, as such, the necessary expenses for each day will be deposited at the start of the day so there is no need to dip into the awarded amount.

For today there are no tasks, just take the time to come to terms with this change in your life. The tasks will begin tomorrow.”

Kevin fought off the urge to look at the next page, wondering if he was being watched and how they would know if he had. He picked up his phone and checked his banking app. Sure enough, the amount in his chequing account was now $26,503,451.27. Kevin shook his head and refreshed the app. The amount remained. Still uncertain how to feel about this windfall and breach of privacy, Kevin finished his wine, made dinner, and went to bed.

The next day Kevin went to work, keeping an eye out on his commute for the curious dapper gentleman from the day previous. He had a hinting suspicion that this man had to be involved in some way with recent events. At work, Kevin was noticeably absent-minded: his co-workers were regularly reminding him of the most basic tasks he needed to accomplish and were frequently asking if there was something wrong. To which Kevin would always force a smile and insist everything was fine.

After work, he rushed home; propelled by a perverse curiosity as to what the next page of the book had in store.

The page read:

“The every-day good people such as yourself are too often unrecognized for their contributions. Your first task will be to donate an acceptable amount to the hospital you work at to have a section of the hospital named after you. There is still time in the day to achieve this, so long as you don’t have to take transit to return to the hospital. To that end, you have been provided with a vehicle. The keys are sitting in your key-bowl by the door.”

Kevin retrieved the keys from the bowl, wondering how he had not seen them when he arrived home. He stared at the image of a prancing horse taking up the entire back of the key fob. Sure enough, when he pressed the unlock button when he reached the street, the lights flashed on a blazing red Ferrari.

Kevin pulled up at the hospital and parked in the staff parking lot. Several of the other people in the parking lot recognized Kevin and gaped at him as he exited the car.

Having arranged to pay twenty-three million to have the new surgical suite named after him, Kevin went home.

The next day, word had spread of Kevin’s arrival at the hospital and his generosity. Kevin couldn’t help noticing that many of the doctors seemed resentful towards Kevin.

“All doctors dream of having a wing named after them. It’s kind of a slap in the face for them to have a wing named after a nurse.” Kathy explained to him during a break.

The next several days went on this way: the book would have him make some grand public gesture and reward him with some high-end material possession. He donated money to non-profits and charities, he hosted fundraising events, he spoiled his friends, and each time he would receive a new wardrobe, or a new apartment, or a new watch. All this time Kevin was keenly aware of the fact that everyone he knew was having their perception of him altered, and it wasn’t in a way that Kevin felt entirely comfortable with. He frequently found that rooms would silence as he entered, conversations felt more forced, and he would often hear of social gatherings he had been excluded from.

This trend persisted until even at work he felt avoided. Coworkers he was used to friendly banter with as they passed in the hallways would avoid his eye, break rooms were always silent while he was in them, and his schedule was regularly being reduced.

Kevin was miserable. He started to miss shifts, would only socialize when the book instructed him, and would remain in his new lavish penthouse apartment until the book requested otherwise.

From the outside, his life was great: he had nice things, a nice apartment, no need to work, his name was featured regularly in the media for his philanthropic acts, people recognized him everywhere he went, but he was living a lie and all those with whom he once held mutual respect would only tolerate him now.

Unable to tolerate this isolation any longer, he opened the book and looked at the next page: the page he wasn’t meant to see yet. It was blank. He flipped through the book; every page was blank. It didn’t make sense. He began to search the apartment for signs that someone else had been there during the day but found nothing. Unsure of what to do next, Kevin turned on the news to see if there might be any clues.

Kevin was horrified to learn that the hospital he worked at had been the victim of a terrible cyber-attack. The attack had breached the provincial medical records database, and planted ransomware, crashing the provincial health care system. The news anchor stated that the attack would have required the software to be installed from within the hospital. Security footage of the individual responsible had been captured, and police were pursuing a suspected lead. Kevin felt his head start to spin and he collapsed on a chair. He snatched up his phone and went to his banking app; his account balance had somehow returned to its original value. A new email notification from the hospital administration drew his attention and he opened it with a feeling of dread. The email politely asked if there was anything that the hospital administration could do to dissuade him from pulling his funding for the new surgical suite. He stared out the window in a daze and watched as a tray truck drove away with his Ferrari.

He had expected the knock on the door, and he quietly went with the police officers who had said they had some questions for him. It was clear now; whoever was behind this had known Kevin would have no issue with these acts of philanthropy, but also that Kevin would become alienated through the glory-seeking nature that underscored the acts. He would become someone whose presence everyone accepted but wouldn’t acknowledge.

The perfect person to impersonate for gaining access to highly sensitive areas.

He paused at the door, briefly touching the handcrafted ceramic bowl and clutching the black book. He smiled.

Kevin reflected on how fortunate he was that there were friends like Kathy in his life who had enough faith in his decency to investigate the changes in her friend and discover a dapper-dressed doppelganger pulling strings behind the scenes. He was thankful that he had loyalty such as hers and Eric’s, the boy who made the bowl, and who had happily agreed to inconspicuously follow the man, documenting his movements with a cell-phone camera.

The case against Kevin was likely strong but, thanks to the devotion of his friends, he was armed with photographic evidence, addresses, and even a name